Full Spectrum of Love

Photo by Jonathon Reid

"Sunset is still my favorite color. Rainbow is second." Mattie Stepanek


What is clouding my awareness of the full spectrum of Love? How do I greet the EVERYTHING and allow this Landscape of Love to unfold more fully? My talisman, my incantation, my newest prayer is "Yes, and..." Yes, I miss my loving and departed Mother since her passing. And I know she is still with me. Yes, my father, whom I dismissed so many years ago, never shared his heart with me. And he sits with me regularly to tell me of his unending Love. Yes, I am completely healed from the passing of my loving husband of 20 years. And I will always carry within me a still lake of tenderness that is easily waked. 

These are not the competing statements of a vacillating mind. They are the warm and gentle notes my heart sings about the mysterious workings of the Landscape of Love. They are comprised of acceptance, compassion, and a desire to know the full spectrum of the Landscape of Love. And they are the best words I can can bring together to explain this resurrected feeling of wholeness that is growing inside me.

Gone are the days that I beat myself, or somebody else, up after recognizing a feeling I judged as wrong or painful. Gone are the doubts that swirled inside me that spoke to my brokenness and raised an invisible white flag over my head which asked everyone to "PLEASE FIX ME."  

So as I take a deep breath... I engage in a new wiser way of being which dissolves "the other" in accordance with Love. I take off the shackles of "either/or thinking" which restricted my growth for so long. Yes, I see we are all Divine and Innocent souls deserving of Love and Kindness. And I begin with my Self.

What is your favorite color?


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Yearning: Other Words Other Ways

We all yearn for something.

Christine Valters Painter stirs my yearning to be one with my soul's heart. I say yes and yes and yes to living from the inside out!

"This is not a poem
but a rain-soaked day keeping me inside
with you and you loving me like a storm.

This is not a poem but a record of a hundred mornings
when the sun lifted above the stone hills outside my window.
This is time for boiling water poured into the chipped cup
holding elderflower, hawthorn, mugwort.

This is not a poem but me standing perfectly still on the edge of the lake
in autumn, watching a hundred starlings like prayer flags fluttering.
This is my face buried in May’s first pink peony,
petals just now parting, eyes closed, inhaling.

This is not a poem but the field beyond thought and judgment
and the ways I tear myself apart on too many fine days.
This is the place where clocks no longer matter unless
it is the dusty gold watch which belonged to my grandfather.

This is not a poem but me standing desolate in a parade
of white gravestones, when a single bluebird lands and sings.
This is the bunch of Gerbera daisies you handed to me one foggy
February afternoon, pale yellow like the long-forgotten sun.
This is the first bite of bread after too many hungry days,
This is my grandmother whispering her secrets to me after dusk.

This is not a poem, but me taking off my clothes
and stepping eagerly into the cold mid-December sea.
This is the silence between breaths and in that stillness
this is me saying yes and yes and yes." ~christine valters painter 

For what do you yearn? What can you use to stir IT up?

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"When I Grew Out of…"

"When you feel peaceful joy, that is when you are near truth" ~rumi

I smiled when a friend used this phrase in an email recently,"When I grew out of…" It reminded me that, even after the age of 50, we do grow out of things. It let me know that whatever I am going through right now is important and okay and I will grow out of it. And from it I WILL GROW.

Let's do Spring this year ... consciously! Let's reflect on those things we have grown out of and those things we WILL grow out of! 

I have grown out of the sensibility of relying on others to do things for me. I am doing things for myself now! 

I have grown out of accepting denigrating thoughts about myself AS TRUE for I know they do not serve me in any way!

And I have grown out of judging. There is no possible way I could know the totality of me, much less the totality of you, so passing judgement seems absurd!

And I am currently growing out my old life. I can feel it receding fast like the sudden drawing back of sea water revealing 400 feet of shore line before a tidal wave slams into the coast. Sounds scary and violent and dramatic, I know, but it feels right and good and organic too. 

Birth is like that. 

So let's do Spring consciously this year! Let's reflect on those things we have grown out of and those things we WILL grow out of! And those things we are becoming!

I write these words out of Love and Compassion. This is what I have grown into. These are the things I am becoming! This is my place. I will allow the rest to unfold.

What compassionate words do you have for yourself?

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We Are All Veterans

"When the Indian saint Ramakrishna was asked why there is evil in the world, he answered, “To thicken the plot.” These very plot thickeners, often the most difficult and insistent ones, can lead us to open our bodies, hearts, and minds." 

~ from A Path with Heart by Jack Kornfield

We are all veterans. We all have some powerfully painful experience we have survived. We are here to survive our experiences and grow from them. 

It is just the way it is.

And the best part of this, for me, is to be a veteran means the experience of struggle is past and now I can move on! The realization that the battle is over and that I have survived is so joyous for me! I am free to look forward toward whatever is next…knowing more than I did before and confidently knowing I can take it! 

What struggle can you triumphantly now put behind you?

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No Need for Struggle

"Don't keep pushing against closed doors. Look around for the open ones." ~ sanyana roman

Every now and then I get caught up in wanting a thing that may not be mine. I feel owed it. Or I need it. Or I just would like to have it because I briefly enjoyed it...so it must be mine.

For me, "being caught" is an indication I have stepped out of the flow of things and have begun a familiar dance of dragging myself against my better interest or anchoring myself when I could be happily moving along. Feelings of powerlessness show up as a life circumstance becomes harder than it has to be. And in the end - after some misbegotten actions or emotions - I get that it was never meant to be mine or perhaps there is a better way to do something.

I wonder why this happens? How come I retrace these steps now and then? 

It seems as if the wanted thing is the least of my concerns. I am coming to realize it is the unlearned lesson "to let go" that I am really after.

Do not get me wrong...struggle to achieve a goal is a good and mighty thing. It cultivates patience, trust, confidence, focus and concentration. But there are a myriad of ways to achieve and knowing that in the deeps of my soul is very liberating.

So I am learning to pay attention. And if it feels like I am being dragged down away from Joy... I stop. I reconsider my options all the while keeping my same goal in mind. It is having this kind of flexibility that eases my way forward. 

There really are endless ways to get there and still stay on your own path! And if you are lucky...and open... some of them may even surprise you!

Do you find flexibility to be one of your go to assets?

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Pumpkin Bread

He loved Pumpkin Bread. He loved a lot of specific things. He knew what he liked because after much living and much thinking about living he made a point to extract the wheat from the chaff. He knew by practical experimentation which things worked best and he held tight to those things. 

So I always knew what to expect. I always knew where things stood for him and with us. And even though, at the time, it was occasionally frustrating - his certainty, his precision, his discipline - there was an awful lot of comfort in his smart, steady and well reasoned ways.

Now, since his death, my husband's quirky and concrete preferences are landmarks in time. So often, when I come across "the right hanger" or I again "hang the towels his way" in the bathroom so they dry fast and well, I smile. But sometimes these things, like this speciality bread at the beginning of Fall, break-my-heart-all-over-again. 

No sense in avoiding it, so I just let it come. Once Iit, it races up from my heart straight out my eyes like how brush fires hop fences in a robust wind. I think about how I have no napkins to wipe my tears here in the cafe. And how I should have some sunglasses to hide my swollen eyes. 

Thoughts act as a break dousing the thing. The more I think the more things improve.

I have lots to do today and lots to look forward to. Lots of new beginnings and exciting changes going on! And just as I know every moment is sacred, I also know this moment will pass. Some new thing will happen and this event too will become the past.

Fire now out, smoke and char remain. But I keep it together. And I move on…

Have you tasted the Pumpkin Bread at La Farm French Bakery? Oh you must, it is sooooo delicious! 

Why can't we live fully with joy - no matter what?

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My Ego - Not Yours! Mine. Mine. Mine.

I sent my ego to the "timeout chair" this morning. I am sitting here smiling imagining this silly and sweet happenstance.

What would my ego look like if I could see it? Is it a smaller version of myself? It seems to be an innocent who does not know any better, but is not me as a child. It is a part of who I am right now, the part that has limited vision and reflexively stomps or rejoices. 

I sent my ego to the timeout chair this morning not to be judged and sentenced. I am showing it the way forward toward a new sensibility because it is part of me that deserves to be loved and understood. I am rerouting it toward a more all encompassing nature beyond it's usual pattern of instantaneous and emotive "me-me-me-ness."

In order to reach for my best self, the person I am meant to be, I am sweetly aware of my lovely and energetic ego self that requires guidance... from me or from some kind of higher self. That is why the moment I recognized it needed to become recumbent and docile I sent my ego to the timeout chair to "think about what it had done"

For this awareness I am grateful. 

"OK, do you know why I had you sit there a while? Yes - that's right, you can get up now. I love you very much. Now go and play."

Have you a part of yourself that needs more guidance?

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So Many Passions

What does Passion mean to you? 

For the first half of my life I thought Passion was that feeling derived from sex and love. BTW this is also the time I thought sex & love were the same thing. 

Passion was that fleeting thing that waxed and waned according to life's circumstance. It conjured up images of operatic gestures and storylines about extreme choices made in sudden fits of itself.

But in more recent days I am coming to know a different kind of Passion. A more soulful call from deep within that is not sudden or fitful but gradual and steady. It calls to me when I seek it. It patiently waits on me to pick up it's trail. It is not dependent on conditions. It existed then, exists now and will always exist. This kind of uninterrupted Passion shows me the way.

Are these two branches from the same tree? Are they siblings, cousins or ancient ancestors? No I don't think so, their effects are both a call to action, but their way of doing things are so completely different.

Perhaps they overlap eachother like my younger and now older selves. Or perhaps they are companions which simultaneously inform each other like surf and shore? 

I can see conditional Passion's irregular waves roaring and breaking toward land creating an ever changing line on top of the shore. It alternates between exposing and covering up that other species of Passion, the unfluctuating one. Whether seen or unseen, unconditional Passion is like all shores everywhere - unceasingly directional, timeless and forever joining land to sea.

I love this place were the land and sea meet. I am fixed by it's constantly changing and changeless nature. It is here at the shore's edge we are able to see all the possibilities of becoming our truest selves. It is here where choice and moment meet and I become awake. 

I am grateful to be able to recognize this enduring flow of things and to periodically live in my own becoming.

How do you experience Passion?

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Perfectly Imperfect!!

Yes - it feels good to see how life is unfolding warts and all; to generate appreciation for a stubbed toe or a missed class. 

There are six pots in my second story window box and one is not getting water due to an out-of-joint drip line. So a little dry brown sprig of dead Asparagus Fern sits stiffly up in the middle of five thriving vessels brimming over with tri-colored Ivys and red Impatiens. As I drive up to my house it waves at me welcoming me home. And I smile. I smile because I know it is OK until I get around to fixing it. And honestly - I am in no hurry.

It is my flag, my banner, my reminder that within all of everything there is some ugly stuff. And knowing this - I mean knowing in the deepest part of myself - I am comforted. And in accepting this life in all of it's manifestations, for me, brings ease to flow.

I am preparing myself for the hard days ahead - when dates will mean more than usual. In celebrating imperfection I am learning to stand my ground as I willingly allow all that comes my way to surge forth. This is how I am healing myself.

You see Michael, my husband now deceased, would have been 54 near the end of July. And it will be two years since his passing sometime in August. And I will celebrate my birthday in between these luminescent dates. Right now the calendar is not looking like my friend. 

But I am finding strength in being conscious so as I encounter those things that wrench my heart sideways I can let them go and watch them pass. BTW - this does not hurt any less, but it heals more. 

In deciding to enjoy a perfectly imperfect life this summer I can happily follow my joys at the same time I am grieving great loss. Contradictory things like this are in everyday life. My experience in revealing this truth, for me, is good stuff making! 

This is why I can laugh as I look down at my freshly shaven legs today. I have left a tiny trail of hairs. a mohawk, front and center on my right shin. Just another sign "all is well" even if a bit uneven! 

So tomorrow I will get on with it. I have a few chores to do. Got a second story garden to till, one leg to shave and a whole lot of healing to do.

What's on your to do list today?

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The Hard Work of Feeling

"...establish that role to be a listener to the mystery…" 

~ ram dass

I have been caught again by my own tear ducts. They have felt the need to do what they do and I have to decide if I want to let them do it. 

Not fully appreciating that in letting them have their way I would be better off - I silently and completely undermine them. I watch TV to become numb. I stay awake way into the early morning hours to strain my body making 'feeling anything' nearly impossible. I eat way past the time of fullness. This physical discomfort distracts me too from feeling "other" things.

"That is strange" I hear myself saying, "how am I still generating such mythic stores of pain?" I am so surprised - with all my new found depth and awareness - that I am still playing this game of hide and seek. "Why whatever do you mean? No! I am so much better now beacuse so many days have passed since my husband died." 

It just boggles my mind. But my soul knows.

It knows this new found depth of mine is a carving out of sorts. And it is this "carving out" that is painful. 

It knows I am still surprised because I have no earthly idea how truly deep this shit really goes. There is no precedent for it. My limited awareness cannot conceive of this kind of vastness. 

It knows this is the uncomfortable mystery. And in order to transform it I must work hard to establish my role as a listener to it. Yet I still resist. 

I resist because it hurts. I resist because I am human. I resist because I am tired. And I resist because I would be crazy to "want" to have the experience of such a deep wound - yet again.

Carrying around this ticking time bomb of grief is not something you get used to. But my new found awareness tells me to again make it welcome. Actually I am not sure what else you can to do with it...other than create space in your day to just feel it. 

Just feel it.  Hey - I'm a Nike commercial for mental health! 

Just feel it. 

Eventually I do just feel it. And it hurts - just like it did before. And it goes away - just like it did before. And I forget about it for a while - just like I did before. Then it comes back - just like it did before. 

Just feel it. 

This is the hardest work I have ever done.

What hard work are you avoiding?

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Summer Time Well Being

A long, long time ago in a far off land my best friend was a boy named Michael who lived up the street. We were both around 6 or 7 years old and we loved playing together. 

I recall sitting in the ivy under the big oak tree with big pillows stuffed under our broadly stripped cotton shirts and mom serving us lunch as we played at being Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. We also collected rudimentary fishing gear while wearing those unstuffed shirts and spent many lazy days catching snapper off a pier in the sound. 

We configured and re-configured race tracks in Mike's basement. And much to the chagrin of our older sisters - we played at being spies, learning how to be stealthy, sneaking up to eavesdrop on their older-kid-doings in the fields at the end of our street. I think that was the only time we were actually quiet!

We climbed trees, road bikes, caught frogs in window wells and butterflies in nets. We mixed potato chips with our Bazooka bubble gum as we watched the Wizard of Oz while propped up on our elbows on pillows on our bellies close to the TV set. Back then it was a real event because the Wizard of Oz only came on once a year! And as I recall this event also signaled the coming to the end of "summer time."

"Summer Time" was not only a season, but a quality of time. It was  when we generally enjoyed enjoying life. It was when school let out and we readily cast ourselves a drift to do NOTHING and loved every moment AND it's unfolding. There were no expectations of accomplishing goals or making the grade. We just got up with the day and made it up as we went along.

We were off the clock when we were in it. We were in summer time. We are now in summer time. We are well. We are just well... well... BEING.

How will you spend your summer time this year?

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Don't Be Alarmed II

A poem written at a time of strong feeling is a good thing…for me. It expresses itself so I can get on with the day. 

Gathering Light

In my mind I took a walk
To my heart

Then let go

And stayed there a while

I slipped gathering light

And fell in love

This to shall pass
Don't be alarmed

All of it is fleeting.

To live passionately 

Is to die peacefully

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Don't Be Alarmed

Don't be alarmed. A poem written at a time of strong feeling is a good thing...for me. It expresses itself so I can get on with the day. This to shall pass.

Desolation

Parched, cracked and dry.

Formidable aching crunches me into tiny pieces like sand.

Alone, without, encumbered, unfrequented and grief stricken.

Near the rim of Death deserted flowers survive.

Quarterly it rains and hope saves seeds for safe keeping.

But no blossoms bloom here.

Desolation and dust insubstantially drifting

denying life.

Coming to my rescue 

the rain of my tears.

Healing slowly,

slowly, slowly, S-L-O-W-L-Y.

How do you move from Darkness to the Light?

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The Joy of Obstinance

No! I don't want to! No! I will not! These are the things I say to myself when I am feeling completely obstinate. It is a feeling of standing still and strongly opposing that which is said to be important or otherwise necessary. Well I do not care what they say, I am not going to go along. I am going to make a grimace with my lips while I grit my teeth and furrow my brow! I am clinching my fists and being a big fat baby and saying, "No way, not me, not now, no how!"

Is this something bad? Let's take another look. How often are we standing strongly? How many times are we so sure - down to our marrow - about something? Isn't this kind of attitude a clue telling us something about ourselves and the way we see our world? 

What if we maintain the same kind of strong stance but unclinch our fists?

What if we stop judging it from the outside and begin to look inside and underneath the experience? 

I find by doing this then somehow the thing and I are transformed. It is becoming more true that the thing I ENJOY not doing becomes my JOY in doing of the other. In accepting my stubborn stance I see the opposing side has become my friend. It shows me the way. And then - the strangest thing of all happens - the opposing thing just dissolves - POOF - and I am left in peace.

Turning things "outside in" like this is a new habit I am forming. Leaving off JUDGMENT for OBSERVING is the  essence of this new practice. Yes, I still go thru the usual angst of being human and not liking a place or a situation. But taking a moment to become a witness and really look at a thing is "good stuff making."

Have you ever turned things around? I would be curious to hear about it.

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Heartbreak

"Never allow someone to be your priority while allowing yourself to be their option." ~Mark Twain

It is real - the root of the thing. 

But is made distant by

the everything else.

I am creative and powerful

Yet I cannot shun the weight of it

It is cornered - me and it together

Win some, lose some

Be careful what you wish for

It cannot be you 

It can never be you

It can only be the Truth

Not enough chocolate in the world...

2013 Grief Olympics

Here is a recount made last year to a friend about things as they were unfolding for me then. Remembering where I was gives me clarity on how far I have come!

"I made it past 3 of the 4 challenging events - Mike's B-Day, my B-Day and the fact that my B-Day was such a milestone - I am 50 years old on Aug 3.

The retreat, which my sister insisted I attend with her, was a great place to be during this highly charged time. A friend of mine from HS drove down from SF and took me to Pebble Beach for a birthday dinner celebration. We drove through Carmel first where he insisted on getting me a birthday gift ( some sandals). And then we stopped by the place where he had deposited his fathers ashes years earlier. On the last night of the retreat a dance was held. There I danced like I haven't danced in years. It was unforgettable...the way I turned 50! And so unexpected as well.

BTW - retreat was at Asilomar Lodge in Pacific Grove CA. There lots of nice people gathered to do workshops and have a great time otherwise. Not stuffy ideologues, but wide open folks wishing everyone find their own path their own way.

So had a great time and am now preparing for final summer challenge in Lani's Grief Olympics - taking Mike's ashes to beach exactly 1 year after his death. I will have loads of family support and we will make it happen.

I had an urn made by a potter friend of mine. Mike loved the color yellow. I put his ashes in it this evening. It is all so surreal...One minute I am up and next I am curled up in a weeping ball. Just keepin' it together these days is all I can manage. I am so grateful for every one's giving-ness of their time and their attention."

Do you have a way to gage your here & now wonderfulness?

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A Walk in the Park

"I am great sun but you do not see me.

I am your husband but you turn away.

I am the captive but you do not free me.

I am the captain but you do not obey.

I am the truth but you do not believe me.

I am that city where you will not stay.

I am your wife, your child but you will leave me.

I am that god to whom you will not pray.

I am your council but you do not hear me.

I am your lover whom you will slay.

I am the victor but you do not cheer me.

I am the holy dove that you will slay.

I am your life, but if you will not name me seal up your soul's tears and do not blame me." ~ from a 16th century inscription.

My job and my joy is to simply be myself. So why isn't this a walk in the park? Who better to know how to do this than me? No special training is required. Nothing need be bought or sold to achieve "Lani-ness" because I came complete, whole and perfect. And I will go out that way too... funny thing is this is true whether I recognize it or not. 

What has to happen to allow fresh, pure, and unencumbered Lani molecules to collect and disseminate with ease and grace?

Full throttle love. Full throttle trust. And full throttle imagination of what life could be like at it's best. When I allow these things it is a walk in the park to just be.

At this point I believe my job and my joy then changes. I believe my job and my joy then becomes dissolving into all that is... definitely NOT a walk in the park! I've got some work to do. 

What work do you have in front of you?

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Joy Springs Up in Unexpected Places

Do you know the sound the cartoon dog makes when he shoots his head straight up and suddenly becomes aware of something? And his warm, sweet and goofy awareness changes everything and comically moves the story forward?

Well - I am making that sound - dumb lovable feisty me. I am suddenly aware that I am very open to allowing a loving universe help me resolve my challenges in surprising ways!

Tears don't just come for no reason. There is something that pushes them out. I know I am still grieving, but I am having a hard time thinking grief is the only reason I am crying right now. Is it because I am experiencing glimpses of loving again in a new way? An all inclusive vulnerable way that feels safe somehow because "with Love all things are possible." Kinda feels a little profound-ish, but YES, this is exactly it!

I know this is accurate because the convulsion of painful emotion stopped once I chose to see the truth beneath the tears. Wow - that was cool! (You get this way, this sensitivity, by having cried a lot - by the way.)

I used to share my Love with just my hubby - but know it seems I am cultivating a new experience of Love. It feels alien and very familiar at the same time. I am being lovable, loving and loved with, to and by everyone!

I wonder what this all means? I wonder if this miraculous life of mine is finally blooming right here in late February like the unexpected daffodils in my backyard? These silly flowers are in the wrong place. They have blossomed in the center of a new path I installed last year. But they are bright spots of yellow in an otherwise dreary winter scape just the same. They speak to me about unexpected joy.

Frankly, I will take what I can get. I have had a very tough year and a half. "Hey Universe, Thank You. And let's get ready to R - U - M - B - L - E !" Bring on your multiplicity of synchronistic & unexpected miracles! I am ready to be amazed and happy again! I am willing to enjoy Joy wherever it shows up on MY new path.

Are you willing to just allow Joy?

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